


A Comedy of Errors

by AEpixie7



Series: Ineffable Bureaucracy [16]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Best Friends, Dagon is a sassy bitch, F/F, F/M, Gabriel just doesn't realize how much, Humor, Michael and Gabriel are best friends who have been through a lot, Michael is secretly very soft, Protective Michael, Shakespearean Comedy, sassy best friends, they're lesbians harold, this update is kinda cryptic though, yeah that sounds hella cryptic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:47:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21875392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AEpixie7/pseuds/AEpixie7
Summary: Beelzebub and Gabriel implore their respective best friends to help them train after Beelzebub has come to terms with her feelings for Gabriel. Little do they know, Dagon and Michael have their own thing going on. The Shakespearean comedy aspect of this update is off the charts.
Relationships: Beelzebub & Dagon (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens), Dagon/Michael (Good Omens), Gabriel & Michael (Good Omens)
Series: Ineffable Bureaucracy [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1437652
Comments: 28
Kudos: 114





	A Comedy of Errors

**Author's Note:**

> Alright so Dagon and Michael joining them at the castle and helping them train was all supposed to be one update, but then this one hit 4k words and I was like WHAT IS HAPPENING?! So it's getting split up.

Beelzebub miracled herself to Head Office and took the stairs down to Hell. She tapped a few claws against the escalator handrail, needing time to think. She'd said the words. She had finally come to terms with her attachment to the Archangel, and she'd told him as much. She regretted it instantly, when that dumb, love-struck look had washed over Gabriel's stupidly handsome face and his jaw dropped, just before the lightning struck and carried him skyward. She knew things would probably be weird next time she saw him, because there was no way he'd let her forget it, and she would literally raze Heaven and Earth to avoid _that_. It wasn’t like she hadn’t meant it, she meant it alright. That panic attack she'd had in the kitchen solidified it—when the reality had come crashing down that Gabriel could actually face consequences for loving her. It had never really mattered, before. He was just a pretty, sparkly angel toy on a string that she got to bat around like a kitten until she was done with him. But she'd gone and fucking fallen in love with him. Stupid, stupid, _stupid._

She stalked to her office in a huff, her annoyance fuming so obviously that the throng of demons in the hallways split like the Red Sea before Moses. She didn’t even look at Dagon when she reached the reception area outside her office, simply stomped past her and slammed the door to her office. She growled to herself and snapped her fingers, lighting the numerous sconces on the walls with Hellfire and illuminating the room with a warm orange glow (she couldn’t stand the flourescent lighting that had replaced fire, so when maintenance had tried to uninstall her Hellfire sconces and replace them with ceiling bulbs, she discorporated most of the maintenance department. No one ever tried again). 

She froze in her tracks when she noticed a pop of color in her office that wasn’t black or red. She blinked several times, considering if perhaps the love confession had actually started to kill her. No, not a hallucination. Atop her desk, shadowing stacks of paperwork, stood a gigantic bouquet of white and purple flowers in a black vase, with a purple heart shaped card dangling from a bit of golden string. She growled, storming forward and ripping the card from the vase, tearing into the envelope. She pinched the bridge of her nose as she scowled down at the card. 

_~For my love bug.~_

She sighed and ignited the card with Hellfire in her hand. _At least he was smart enough not to sign his name. I am going to beat his ass for this. Idiot is just begging for trouble. What was he thinking?!_

“Oh good, you found it. I deserve a raise for managing to carry that into your office without anyone asking questions,” Dagon drawled from the doorway, sauntering forward when Beelzebub shot her a glare. Dagon's silver-tipped fingernail flicked one of the purple-centered lilies, her eyes inspecting the soft petals dispassionately. 

“Get thezzzzze out of my sight. Burn them for all I care,” Beelzebub snapped, stalking around her desk and slouching into her chair with a huff. Dagon shrugged, scooping the vase up into her arms and heading for the door, Beelzebub watching her go through the fingers of one hand draped in embarrassment over her face. One of the lilies peeked around Dagon's shoulder, the soft white flower seeming to deflate much like sad angel wings. 

“Wait,” Beelzebub barked flatly, and Dagon whipped around, toppling a stalk of lavender from the display, though she managed to catch it before it fell to the ground, tucking it lovingly back into the vase and giving Beelzebub an all too smug grin. Beelzebub buried her face in her hands and half-scream, half-growled into them, then flopped helplessly back in her chair with a defeated sigh. “Juzzzzt… put them in my private chamberzzzz,” Beelzebub grumbled, waving a hand at the door to her private bedroom behind her office. Dagon smiled and nodded, an evil grin gracing her lips. 

“Yes, your lowness.” 

When she reentered the Prince's office after depositing the flowers on the bedside table, Dagon found Beelzebub slouched over her desk, arms folded and her head resting on her forearm. She mumbled something into her own coat sleeve, which sounded suspiciously like “ _why him?_ ” 

Dagon chuckled to herself, and stepped out to retrieve something of her own she had planned to give the Prince. It was risky, and she was probably about to get discorporated, but the idea of teasing her long-sullen boss for being so hopelessly in love with an Archangel (and _that one in particular_ ) was simply too tempting. 

She stepped back into the Prince's office, dropping a clay weight onto the floor with a satisfying _tink_. Beelzebub glanced up from her sulking, her expression slowly changing from mild annoyance to managerial murder, the likes of which Dagon wished she had had the forethought to document on film. Dagon smiled up at the horrendously cheesy mylar party balloon, which had once read _Congrats it's a boy!_ in various shades of blue, but the 'boy' had been scratched out with sharpie and replaced with Dagon's elegant handwriting— _Congrats it's a Himbo!_

Beelzebub stood slowly, both hands spread wide on her desk as her claws extended and her eyes smoldered red. She slowly paced around her desk, stopping just before bumping chests with Dagon. 

“Ohhhh, I am going to pound you into the _ground…_ ” Beelzebub snarled, lifting a claw and popping the balloon right next to Dagon's ear. Dagon simply smiled, all sharp teeth and confidence. 

“Sounds delightful, my Lord, but what will your little pet cockatoo think of that?” 

“I mean literally. I am going to kick. Your. Ass. Next weekend. We are going to spar. You and me. It wazzz the angel's idea but now I’m really starting to enjoy the promise. Now get out before I dizzzcorporate you.” 

Dagon smiled. “Yes my Lord.” 

*** 

Gabriel was absolutely _giddy_. The lightning that carried him to Heaven never had any discernable effect on his body, and yet he felt entirely _electric_. His skin tingled with it. 

_I love you too, idiot._

He could still hear Beelzebub’s sharp voice speaking the words. The begrudging sweetness of it. Like salted caramel (not that he would know what that tasted like, but it had always sounded like such a strange mixture to him, much like the Prince). He knew how hard it was for her to say it, and how rare. He would probably hear it sparingly in the future, if ever, but that made it all the sweeter. His ears blushed from the echo of those melodious words as he strode purposely through Heaven, knowing exactly what to do about this blossoming affection. He found the grove where flowers had first come into being, and prepared a bundle of his favorite regency-center calla lilies and lavender. He pulled a purple ink pen from his breast pocket and scrawled a quick note— _For my love bug._ He tucked the pen back into his pocket, tying the note to the vase with a bit of delicate gold string. _She's going to hate it_. He grinned to himself as he pictured her enraged scowl at receiving something so pointless and frivolous as _flowers_. How he adored that scowl. 

He snapped his fingers and miracled the vase straight to Hell, through the official receiving department, care of Dagon. That was sure to piss Bee off—involving Dagon. Beelzebub would have to face the mortifying ordeal of receiving flowers in front of another demon. A former lover, to boot. His heart fluttered at the promise of future retribution from his Prince. 

He hurried to his office, prepared to handle any managerial duties with the utmost care, so as to earn himself the full, carefree weekend with Beelzebub at the castle. He was still grinning goofily when he opened the door to his office, the presence of another being occupying his desk chair hardly even throwing off his joyful mood. 

“Michael! To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

Michael lounged in his chair, her feet perched on the desk and a single white feather balancing over her index finger. “Well I had to come congratulate you. When you returned from Earth, the amount of love that flooded into my office was stifling. Like Axe body spray, I almost gagged.” 

Gabriel chuckled. “You’d make a great demon, you know that,” he teased as he hung up his coat and scarf on his coat rack, the entire thing vanishing into some cozy corner of Heaven so as not to clutter up his immaculate office. 

“Ligur used to say that all the time,” Michael said absently, turning to stare blankly out the floor-to-ceiling windows, her blue eyes clouding with something dark for an instant before she sobered, willing away the feather in her hand. She stood and smoothed the front of her suit jacket, walking casually around the desk and leaning back on it, her hands folded in front of her. “Just… be careful, alright dove? I can’t lose you too.” 

Gabriel's smile faded, and his heart lurched. No one knew how deeply Ligur's loss had affected the Archangel Michael. No one except Gabriel. She was always so guarded, so closed off from everyone. She had put on a brave face in front of Sandalphon and Uriel, but Gabriel could always tell. It was in her shoulders. She carried herself so proudly, except on the day that Ligur was destroyed. 

Gabriel cleared his throat and fidgeted, wishing he could embrace her but he thought better of it. She wasn’t usually one to appreciate displays of affection. He settled on expanding his aura and warmly brushing against hers. If she noticed the gesture, she didn’t say anything. 

“Well, Michael, that’s actually… something I had hoped to discuss with you. Bee… um… _The Prince_ has expressed some… uh, _discomfort_ at my returning to Heaven at all.” 

_And if by discomfort, you mean a tiny demon having a literal panic attack, crying and shaking and begging you never to return to Heaven, even suggesting she torture the traitors to figure out their immunity, then… yes. Discomfort._

Michael's eyes widened and she pushed away from the desk, her back stiff as her face drained of color. 

“Now don’t freak out, Michael, I'm here now, aren’t I? I can’t just turn my back on Heaven, no matter how much I…” he gulped. “Love her. But I _did_ agree to bring an angel with me next time, to Earth. Someone I trust with my existence, and more importantly, my secret. Someone who would help me hone my skills, in case I ever do find myself fighting… other angels.” 

He stood with his eyebrows raised, and Michael rolled her eyes, shaking her head and laughing incredulously. She paced the office, both index fingers pressing at her temples as if Gabriel were the living, breathing headache that was sneaking up on her. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?” she asked. 

“It would mean a lot to Bee,” Gabriel tried, Michael spinning to face him and crossing her arms, a hip and an eyebrow cocked. 

“Try again.” 

Gabriel sighed, stepping forward and holding Michael's upper arms. This time he made sure she felt the sincerity in his aura. “It would mean a lot to _me_.” 

Michael stared, and for a moment Gabriel doubted the faith he'd placed in her. That hard stare was terrifying and he wished it would have never been directed at him. But she eventually softened, stepping back out of his grasp and rolling her neck to relieve some unseen tension. “You know exactly how to use those puppy dog eyes, don’t you?” 

“How else do you think I managed to seduce the Prince?” he said, a cocky grin on his lips. Michael snorted. 

“Yeah. _You_ seduced _her_. Sure, dove. I’ll join you on Earth, if that’s what you want.” 

Gabriel pumped a fist victoriously in front of him. 

“But don't expect me to go easy on you.” 

Gabriel clapped his hands together, that smug grin gracing his handsome features. “What kind of angel would I be if I didn’t take my own advice?” he asked, and at Michael’s questioning glare, added “Be not afraid.” 

*** 

Gabriel straightened his suit and smoothed down his hair when the last of the static from his lightning had fizzled. Michael had urged them to travel separately, so as to avoid suspicion if they were to venture to Earth together. He glanced skyward, knowing she wouldn’t arrive for a bit, but still he felt giddy. It was exciting, to have an angel _here_ , at the castle. Where he felt the most free. He hoped Michael could feel just an ounce of that freedom, God knows she needed it. Poor thing had seemed so stressed since Armageddon. Honestly, Gabriel himself had felt the same way, until he found Bee. She was the most glorious stress relief he'd ever felt. And he'd been graced by the hand of God, so that was saying something. 

He pushed the huge wooden doors of the castle open, stepping inside and closing the door quickly to avoid any snow billowing in with the wind. He glanced around, feeling Beelzebub's aura but not finding her anywhere. He took a few steps into the atrium, his spine tingling and his skin crawling with unease. 

“Bee?” he asked nervously, before his legs were kicked from behind, sending him to his knees. His own scarf was wrapped quickly around his neck, pulled taught until he choked, and a single clawed hand grasped a handful of his hair and yanked his head back. 

“Don’t _ever_ do anything like that again,” Beelzebub's voice was harsh, a warm growl against his ear that sent heat shooting down his chest and pulsing in his groin. He smiled, struggling weakly against her chokehold on his scarf and _shuddering_ at the resistance. 

“So you got my flowers?” he asked, his voice hoarse around the pressure on his neck. His lips curved up into a mischievous grin, and that time it was Beelzebub's turn to shudder. She released her hold on his scarf, and used her grip in his hair to throw him forward onto all fours. 

“Yes, I did. I burned them.” 

“I suspected you might,” he said calmly, rocking back onto his heels and resting his palms on his thighs, watching Beelzebub circle him like a predator. She stopped in front of him, arms crossed and a foot ticking against the floor, that same bored, annoyed expression on her face. 

“Michael izzzz expected imminently?” she asked, her eyes drinking in the sight of him kneeling in front of her. He nodded, biting his lip as he took notice of the way her eyes lingered on his shoulders, chest, and crotch. 

“Pity,” she mused, beckoning him to stand, which he obeyed. “Dagon will be along shortly. Michael izzzz a wanker, but it wazzz a good idea to travel separately from our counterpartzz. Can't be drawing suspicion when the two highest ranking celestials of each office meet on Earth, at the same location,” she said absently, her attention casually darting around to the tapestries on the walls. She grinned at the one depicting Gabriel on his hands and knees at the end of her leash. 

“Bee, I've been thinking…” Gabriel started, but Beelzebub whipped around and interrupted him. 

“Gabriel I swear to _Satan_ if you mention what I said last time…” she snapped, though she stopped when Gabriel held his hands up in surrender. 

“Nope. I swear I won’t. I swear… to God,” he stuttered, and _that_ certainly had Beelzebub's attention. “I’ve just been thinking about greed.” 

Beelzebub's blue eyes darted between his, her brow furrowing in confusion. “Greed?” she said slowly, as if she were talking to one of those nonverbal demons who just grunted and growled at people. 

“Yes,” he said, stepping forward and gracing her cheek with the back of his hand, the touch so unexpected and gentle that Beelzebub was helpless to fight it. “You’ve tempted me once again, my Prince. I want all of you. Not just a part of you. I hate what you showed me… last time. Your marks. I can’t stand knowing that you're in pain, and that some part of you is focusing on that instead of… us. I know your life is Hell. But when you're with me, it doesn’t have to be. So I hope… the fact that it’s technically because I'm being selfish, you'll permit me to do this for you.” 

“Gabriel, what are you…” 

Gabriel sighed deeply as he reached out with his aura, brushing against Beelzebub's. Her energy recoiled from his, as was natural for a demon, but when he tried again, she relented. He enveloped her entirely with his aura, finding that ceaseless pain where her marks were boiling across her face, hidden deep within her unblemished corporation, away from him. He let his aura settle like a barrier between her and that pain. 

“I can’t heal you, I know that. But when you're near me, you're a part of me. Literally. You're sharing my aura now. So maybe… even if you’re still burning… you don’t have to feel it. You can forget about the pain. For a little while.” 

Beelzebub stood for several moments, her body buzzing but frozen in place. In an instant, a pain that had nagged at her since pain itself existed… was gone. It was a strange new sensation, the numbness that replaced it. It sucked the breath right out of her, made her legs turn to jelly. She actually did collapse, right into Gabriel's arms. She wanted to fight him, to punch him in the chest, scream at him for doing such a thing to her, taking away something that had been a part of her since the moment the clouds opened up beneath her feet. But she couldn’t. There was a weightlessness, a _freedom_ from everything unholy that she felt like she should remember, somehow. An all-encompassing _comfort_ that, no matter how much she tried, she just couldn’t hate. It was Gabriel. His aura was bliss, and warmth, and painlessness. It was all around her and _of course_ she didn’t hate it. Had she ever hated it? Something about this… wasn’t new… 

She couldn’t handle the rush of… _everything_ that hit her. So she did the only thing she could think of to fix this. 

She shoved Gabriel back against a wall, attacking his lips as she clung to his hair, all the while emitting the most un-demonic whimpers. Was that really _her_ making those noises?! She couldn’t find the effort to be embarrassed, her hand shoving up underneath Gabriel's turtleneck sweater and raking down his abs, his hiss of breath slipping past her lips as she held his bottom lip between her teeth. 

“ _Fuck_ Gabriel. How much time do you think we've got?” she panted, hooking a leg up over his hip and grinding against him. He grunted, grabbing beneath her knee and spinning her around, pinning her to the wall as her other leg hooked up over his hip, her hips rolling and making him see _stars_. 

“I’m willing to risk it,” he said huskily, burying his face beneath her chin and littering her neck with kisses and nibbles, his hips grinding hard against her and making her shout. 

“Please, I need my eyes. They burned once when I fell, don’t burn them again,” Dagon's voice halted them both in their tracks. Gabriel growled loudly and let his forehead fall onto the Prince's shoulder, his hands still cupped under her rear. Her hand reached up to course through his hair, and he groaned from the effort of resisting the urge to grind against her again. 

“How opposed would you be to fucking me anyway, angel?” Beelzebub asked, her voice silky smooth with mischief. Gabriel chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss to her shoulder, over her coat. He released her legs and lowered her to the ground, much to her chagrin. 

“As tempting as that is…” he said as he glanced back at Dagon, who stood innocently in the foyer where she’d emerged from the ground in a blaze of Hellfire. She folded her hands behind herself, her piranha smile sending chills down Gabriel's spine. 

“I don’t particularly enjoy the idea of your former lover judging my prowess.” 

“Oh, don't fret, little bird. I’m sure she wouldn’t be comparing you to me. Cuz let’s face it, no one compares to me,” Dagon sneered. 

“Huh,” Gabriel breathed, tapping a finger against his chin in contemplation. “I think I’ve figured out your type, Bee. You like huge, throbbing egos.” 

Dagon sauntered forward, running one sharp silver fingernail along Gabriel's jaw and smiling wickedly, before flicking his cheek with that nail. “I like this one.” 

Beelzebub slapped a hand over her face in embarrassment, before grabbing Dagon by the hand. “Good, I'm so glad you approve,” she said in a deadpan. “Now come on, you thirsty bitch, I’ll make you a drink.” 

As if on cue, lightning struck just outside the doors. Both demons jumped, but Gabriel just beamed. 

“Ah. That'll be Michael,” he said cheerily, stopping as he turned to open the doors when he realized Dagon had audibly gasped. 

“M-Michael's here?” she asked, her voice a tiny remnant of that confidence she'd projected earlier. Gabriel and Beelzebub scrutinized her with confusion as she replaced her sharpened teeth with sparkling white, human-shaped ones. She turned quickly and clutched Beelzebub's coat sleeve. “Get me that drink. And make it a strong one.” 

Realization dawned on Beelzebub's features, and she smiled, although Gabriel still seemed clueless. “Meet us in the parlor, angel. Don’t tell Michael Dagon's here.” 

Dagon looked _horrified_. 

“Why not?” Gabriel asked. _Idiot angel_. 

“Don't question your master, pet.” 

Dagon gagged and dragged Beelzebub from the room. 

Gabriel stood completely dumfounded, his shoulders shrugging as he approached the giant castle doors. _Well that was odd_. 

Gabriel swung the castle doors open to reveal a very impatient looking archangel, her hair somewhat disheveled from the wind. “Took you long enough. Get out of my way, it's bloody cold out here…” Michael stepped past Gabriel and froze, slowly turning back toward him as he closed the door. 

“Gabriel… what did you do?” she urged in an icy cold tone, her eyes wide. 

“What? I didn’t…” 

“Your… your aura! Gabriel, _what the Hell did you do?_ I asked you… no… I _begged_ you to be careful and you've gone and fractured your own aura?! What are you thinking?! Do you realize what you've done? If Beelzebub gets injured or, _God forbid_ , discorporated while sharing your aura…” 

“Michael. It’s fine, it’s only when we're together, on Earth, it’s not permanent…” he said, trying to settle her with his hands on her upper arms but she yanked away and stepped out of his reach. 

“It is _not_ fine! I should never have let this go so far, I should’ve known. The last time you did this it damn near destroyed you, and I can’t, Gabriel, _I can’t_ …” 

Gabriel froze, his heart pounding in his chest. 

“Michael… what do you mean… _the last time?_ ” 

Michael straightened and paled considerably. She shrank back away from Gabriel, rubbing her arm nervously. “I… nothing. Forget I said anything.” 

Rage boiled in Gabriel's soul, and he stepped forward, grabbing Michael by the shoulders and shaking her once to get her attention. “Michael, I will not ask again. What. Do you mean. _The last time?!_ ” 

Michael refused to look up from the ground. “I can’t, Gabriel.” 

“I’m your superior and a Seraph of the Lord. I command you to tell me.” 

“I can’t, Gabriel!” Michael yelled, her eyes glassy. She brought both hands up and shoved Gabriel’s hands off her shoulders. “I swore an oath of silence.” 

“To who?!” 

“The Almighty!” 

Gabriel's breath stopped altogether. 

“I couldn’t tell you even if I wanted to, dove. You are _happy._ I can see it. I can _feel_ it, you’re practically glowing. Even if I could tell you, what I have to say would break you. Can’t you just… be content with what you've found? Move on? I know it's hard, believe me. I’m still holding onto… a lot. But true happiness is fleeting in an immortal life. Please just… hold onto that and… try not to dwell on the past.” 

Gabriel's heart was beating so quickly he felt like his veins might burst. Did Michael remember before the Fall? Did she know something? Something about him that he didn’t even know about himself? And why, _why_ had the Almighty forbidden her from speaking about it? 

_God is keeping secrets from me._

“Gabriel, please. Don’t give me that look. I’m begging you, don’t think too much on this. You’ve found the Prince. She’s yours. She's here now, just like I am, and she's waiting for us,” Michael said, her eyes glistening with the threat of tears and fragile hope. Gabriel swallowed hard and forced out a calming sigh, attempting to wrangle the kind of rage he never thought an angel was capable of feeling. The only thing that helped calm that beast was the thought of Beelzebub's mischievous grin and that rush of her body when he'd graced her with his aura. 

He forced that trademark smile of his and nodded, the sight making Michael shrink away from him even further. “You’re right. Of course. I’m sure the Almighty had a perfectly justified reason for requiring your silence. This is just another bump in the path She's paved for me,” he said, walking casually down the grand hall and motioning for Michael to follow him, which she did tentatively. She took up stride next to him, glancing occasionally at the side of his face, searching for any hint of dishonesty. Damn Gabriel, if there was one thing he excelled at, it was maddeningly convincing enthusiasm. 

“Are you… alright, dove?” 

“Of course, Michael. Climb every mountain, right?” he said, smiling that same smile as he placed a hand on her shoulder in reassurance. She grinned hopefully at him, though she still felt uneasy about the amount of wrath she’d felt coming from his aura. 

Every ounce of anger drained away from him when they rounded a corner and the sound of Beelzebub _laughing_ met his ears. She and Dagon were apparently several drinks in, their drinks sloshing as they joked and laughed together. Michael barely had time to feel a swell of relief before she stopped in her tracks, her hand grasping Gabriel's arm like a vice and wrinkling his suit. 

“ _Holy shit, Dagon_ ,” she whispered, releasing Gabriel's arm and quickly running a hand over her expertly stacked curls, miracling her windswept hair back to perfection and… _did she just get taller?_

Ah. No, she miracled herself a pair of high heels, Gabriel realized as he glanced down to find a lovely pair of white lace peep toes, exposing gold painted toenails. 

“How do I look?” Michael asked hurriedly, rolling her shoulders back into her trademark impeccable posture. 

“Fine, Michael, why did you…” 

Oh. 

_Oh._

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to the Dagon & Michael show, folks. Disasters, all of them.
> 
> (Also, Gabriel said everything was fine. Spoiler alert, everything is not fine.)
> 
> Special thanks to @SapphicScavenger for the hilarious Himbo balloon idea! I DIED.


End file.
